


Of Mabaris and Men

by ohlawsons



Series: dragon age fic [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9289109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: A collection of one shots and short fics spanning all three games. Various wardens, hawkes, inquisitors, and pairings.Will be uploaded in small batches as I catch up with everything posted on my tumblr.Update 05: somandric [anora/cauthrien]





	1. Kiss Prompts [f!Cousland/Anora]

**Author's Note:**

> so way back when, i started this fic on FFN and had a bunch of one shots posted, but some of those fics are four or five years old and just. not good. if you're dying to read them, feel free, but i'll only be posting the newer, better fics here. 
> 
> which, there's a lot of. so bear with me. i'm going to post them in groups, and i'm going by character/pairing so at least there's _some_ semblance of organization here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A modified/shortened kiss prompt list from tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _characters:_ abby cousland  
>  _pairings:_ abby/anora, abby/zevran/anora  
>  _set late/after origins_

**_LIPS  
_** Anora was, first and foremost, a  _lady_. Abby could be also, when she desired.

But the last thing on her mind when she returned from Fort Drakon after the battle with the archdemon was _manners_. When she caught sight of the queen, Abby pushed through the crowd towards her, pulling her into a kiss that was  _anything_  but ladylike.

**_FOREHEAD  
_** The first year, the stress of ruling caught up with Abby often, especially when Zevran was away. There were times when  _Lady Cousland_  was stretched to her limits, and would politely excuse herself from court to fume in the hallway, blinking away angry tears.

It didn’t take long at all for Anora to figure it out, and soon Abby was quickly followed by the queen, who would comfort her with gentle reminders of which nobles could be persuaded, and which might need a reminder that she had an Antivan Crow on her side, and finishing with a light kiss to the forehead.

**_CHEEK  
_** Anora didn’t often show affection in public, but between the wine and air of the ball, she found herself stealing more than one kiss, feather-light pecks on Abby’s cheek that never failed to draw an amused smirk from the younger woman.

**_NOSE_** **  
** It’s hard for Abby to stay out of trouble; whether it’s dealing with assassins or conspirators or just thugs in general, on more than one occasion she ends up stuck in bed, covered in cuts and bruises and sore spots where magic didn’t quite work all the way. Anora mostly lets her rest, but occasionally slips in to bring tea or simply a conversation, never leaving before giving Abby a quick kiss on her nose and begging her to be more careful next time.

**_BACK OF_** **_HAND_  
** Abby is amused – yet not necessarily surprised – when she learns that Zevran fits right in among the nobility at the palace’s annual spring salon. They’re several dances in before Abby notices Anora, standing off to one side and calmly fending off requests to dance.

She isn’t certain whether it’s jealousy or a desire to see her queen smile, but Abby cuts in front of the growing line of eager young noblemen to take Anora’s hand. Eyes never leaving Anora’s, Abby kisses the back of her hand and asks for a dance.

**_FINGERTIPS_** **  
** Things went smoothly in Ferelden until the Fade tears began showing up. Plagued with pleas for help, demands for answers, and calls for action, Abby and Anora were regularly stretched to their limits.

The first – and only – time Anora complained about the workload, Abby took a break from her own response and sat at the edge of Anora’s desk, taking her hands in hers and squeezing them reassuringly before lightly pressing her lips to each of her fingertips.

**_SHOULDER  
_**_Early to bed, early to rise_. The motto works well enough for Anora, not so much for Abby. When Anora wakes, the sun is just high enough to cast light through their bedroom window; just enough to illuminate Abby’s peaceful face. 

She won’t wake her – the Warden is extremely  _touchy_ about her beauty rest – but Anora doesn’t leave without a feather soft kiss to Abby’s shoulder and a whispered  _good morning_ , though her gestures won’t be reciprocated until it’s nearly lunchtime.

**_COLLARBONE  
_**_What good is a ball if we don’t get to scandalize some nobles?_ Anora disagrees, but Abby is insistent. The song isn’t quite slow enough for the way they’re dancing, but considering the amount of wine she’s already had, Abby is more than content to simply sway in place, arms locked tight around Anora.

She leans down for a kiss – then another. Her lips trail lightly down Anora’s jawline, placing careful, deliberate kisses along the way. She leans a bit further down, finding the queen’s exposed collarbone and shoulder. Abby’s affections are cut off prematurely as Anora reminds her that, no, they aren’t there to cause a scene, and nobles are beginning to stare.

**_SPINE  
_** The nightmares are common, but they worry Anora. Abby often wakes, heart pounding, chest heaving, in the middle of the night, curling up on the opposite side of the bed with her knees to her chest. She doesn’t respond to Anora’s questions, but her soft words and gentle kisses on Abby’s bare back are almost always enough to calm her shaking.

**_THROAT  
_** A book tumbles off the desk; Anora’s eyes widen in surprise, but Abby manages a breathy laugh.  _You’re too stressed_ , she’d told Anora.  _Let me help you relax_. Obviously, Abby isn’t doing a very good job. She grins and leans forward, lips seeking out Anora’s with a new hunger. The queen’s bare legs wrap tighter around Abby’s waist as her hands wander, sliding down Anora’s back. Anora pulls back, breathing heavily; as Abby catches her own breath, her lips move to Anora’s throat and collarbone, covering her pale skin in light kisses.

**_STOMACH  
_** The child isn’t  _hers_  – the future prince’s parents are Abby and Zevran. But that doesn’t phase Anora in the slightest. Abby may roll her eyes, but never denies that she enjoys the afternoons she spends with Anora. The two queens sit together on their bed, often holding hands and simply enjoying a few moments alone, and Anora declares – rather dreamily – the circumstances under which they’ll raise the child.

It’s a side that Abby hadn’t ever thought she’d see. But as Anora leaves, every afternoon, by placing the gentlest kiss on Abby’s stomach, Abby can’t hide a growing smile. 


	2. Awakening Excerpt 01 [F!Cousland & f!Orlesian Warden]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Warden Commander arrives from Orlais, and Queen Cousland has conflicting feelings on not spending her days knee-deep in darkspawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _characters:_ abby cousland, annaliese kader  
>  _pairings:_ none  
>  _set early awakening_

“I was under the impression that you’d be accompanying me and the rest of the Wardens to Amaranthine.”

Abby inspected her fingernails. For once, they weren’t chipped or dull or covered in dried blood; it was a nice change. “No.” Her curt answer drew an apologetic shrug from Alistair and an amused chuckle from Zevran.

“Warden-Comm–”

“No,” Abby repeated, cutting of Annaliese’s protest. “ _You_ are Warden-Commander now. I have a kingdom to run, honestly I don’t have time for darkspawn.”

The dwarf gave a quick bow before bidding the king and queen farewell and promising to send a letter. As she left, Annaliese wasn’t certain if she should be annoyed that she’d be receiving no aid, or glad that the Fereldans wouldn’t be interfering.

“No time for darkspawn, hmm?” Still grinning, Zevran slowly began to massage Abby’s shoulders, pressing a light kiss to her skin before remarking, “That’s not the Abigail  _I_ know.”

Abby forced out a laugh. “Between you and all these nobles, I don’t get any sleep as it is. Throwing darkspawn into the mix? I’d rather not.” She stared back at her fingers – her  _naked_ fingers, not protected by thick gloves or grasping a bow, too callused and rough for court life – and tried to push away all thoughts of darkspawn.

* * *

 

 

 “Warden-Comm–” Annaliese stopped herself, clearing her throat before trying again. “ _Queen_  Cousland. Your presence is unexpected, but certainly–”

“Call me Abby.” Brushing past the dwarf, Abby headed straight for the seneschal, exchanging a warm handshake with Varel. “Glad to see the security is so tight here,” she grinned. “I believe I even saw a guard out in the courtyard.”

“The darkspawn attacks have made things… difficult,” he explained. “I assume that’s what you’re here about?”

Craning her neck to inspect the rest of the main hall, Abby sighed. “No. Zevran and I are visiting Amaranthine. Unfortunately, Rivain is too far away for a vacation.” Turning back to Varel, her tone hardened. “I’m here because I’ve been told you’ve got a  _friend_  of mine locked up in your dungeons.”

Annaliese chose that moment to re-enter the conversation. “His name’s Nathaniel Howe,” she offered. “He said you would know him.”

“I see.” Abby clasped her hands behind her back, eyes unfocused. “And what have you chosen to do with him?”

“I– I let him go,” Annaliese stammered, surprised at the malice in the queen’s voice; she hadn’t known Abby long, but she knew her well enough to realize that this anger wasn’t normal.

“ _Well_ ,” she crooned, “if he decides to return, let him know his  _queen_  would have words with him.” Within an instant, her smile had returned, and Abby looked back at Varel. “Care to give me a bit of a tour?”

As the two left, Annaliese found herself tugging anxiously on her ponytail. “Anders,” she called, “perhaps now would be a good time to leave for Amaranthine? I believe Varel has the Keep covered.”

Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into Nathaniel again. With as rocky as the beginning of her time as Warden-Commander had been, Annaliese didn’t want to add the  _queen_ to the list of things she’d have to watch out for.


	3. Awakening Excerpt 02 [f!Orlesian Warden]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the warden commander is less than impressed with the state the ferelden wardens were left in upon the warden's death and the end of the fifth blight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _characters:_ amelia andras  
>  _pairings:_ none  
>  _set early in awakening, after reclaiming vigil's keep_

Amelia began her first full day in Ferelden much like she would’ve back in Orlais.

After pulling her hair into a tight bun and changing into her Warden’s robes, she headed straight to the dining hall, where she had only a lightly buttered roll and some fruit for breakfast. As she ate, she scribbled down her early-morning thoughts in a worn journal; here in Vigil’s Keep, she had little need for secrecy.

Unlike back home, no one could read the elegant Orlesian words, and there weren’t too many Wardens around to be peeking over her shoulder, anyway.

So as Amelia took an experimental bite of an apple – mildly surprised that it tasted  _normal_  – she dipped her quill into her inkwell and began to jot down a quick review of the day before.

_The darkspawn presence at the Keep is troubling; there might be more – must investigate._

_So far, there’s two new recruits. The mage seems promising – I don’t like his attitude,_ grimacing, Amelia crossed out  _attitude_  and continued,  _demeanor. Regardless, he’s good at what he does. Healing. Also, fire_ , she noted.

_It’s a shame about the dwarf. I now find myself wishing I’d taken his offer, despite his many shortcomings._

_The second recruit holds promise. I’ve yet to see his skills for myself, but his family name seems to bear some weight. He, along with the mage, will accompany me into the city today._

_I also was fortunate enough to meet the king yesterday._

_I was not impressed._

When she’d finished, Amelia snapped the book shut and tucked it back in her room before searching for Varel. “Have Anders and Nathaniel meet me out front,” she ordered. “I’d like to address these rumors as quickly as I can.”


	4. Awakening Excerpt 03 [f!Orlesian Warden/Nathaniel]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which amelia and nate Figure Things Out, and anders naturally has to comment on it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _characters:_ amelia andras  
>  _pairings:_ amelia/nathaniel  
>  _set shortly after the events of awakening_

 

“You’re staring.”

“Was I?”

Amelia’s eyes flicked up to the edge of her mirror, where she had a clear view of Nathaniel, still in bed, hair tousled and eyes fixated on his commander. Ducking her head so he wouldn’t see the smile that was beginning to form, Amelia resumed digging through her little bag of accessories, searching through various earrings and necklaces until she found her hair pins. Tucking a few loose strands of hair back into place, she cleared her throat and remarked, “If you don’t quit, I’ll have you put on morning patrols for a week.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t do that,” Nathaniel chuckled. “You’d miss me.”

“Perhaps.  _But_  it might get you up and moving at a decent hour.” Grabbing her staff, Amelia stood, ready to check in with the rest of the Wardens. “Hurry up and get dressed before I send Sigrun looking for you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

With only an innocent smile to answer him, Amelia made her way to the door. Nathaniel scrambled out of bed, calling after her.

“Amelia! Am–  _Commander_!”

But she tugged the door closed, knowing she’d gotten him moving for the day. A low whistle stopped Amelia in her tracks.

“Looks like I owe Sigrun a few silvers.” Leaning against the wall outside of Amelia’s chambers was Anders, sporting a knowing smile. “I wasn’t sure the two of you would  _ever_ figure it out.”

Uncharacteristically flustered, Amelia stammered, “Figure it out?”

“You and Nate.” He gave his eyebrows a suggestive waggle, then elbowed Amelia lightly. “Your secret’s safe with me, don’t worry. I’m not paying Sigrun if I don’t have to.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Creators give me strength,” she muttered under her breath, not looking forward to enduring the inevitable Keep gossip.


	5. somandric [anora/cauthrien]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> somandric: pertaining to the human body; cauthrien x anora, set post-origins

She’s beautiful, Anora. 

Cauthrien thinks of herself as her queen’s loyal soldier -- all muscle and scar tissue and unbroken vows. She’s a woman of practicality, of thick ponytails and simple clothing and hard work. Nothing has ever been handed to her, and she wouldn’t ask for it anyways.

Anora, by contrast, is... She’s not  _soft_ , of that Cauthrien is certain.  _Sharp_ , then, is how she would describe her. Sharp wit, tongue, gaze, the angle of her nose and the line of her jaw and the silhouette of her hips beneath the thin night dress she wears.

And she’s distracted, now, too busy drinking in the sight of her queen stretching in the soft dawn light -- but what does it matter? They have all day. There’s no rush; Anora will disagree, as soon as she’s awake enough to formulate an argument, but Cauthrien doesn’t mind. She lays sprawled out beside Anora, reaching across the scant space between them as Anora shifts and sighs and curls back beneath the covers.

“No pressing matters to attend to this morning, my love?” Her hand brushes over Anora’s waist, sliding down until she finds her hand. She takes it, and smiles as their fingers intertwine and Anora gives her hand a warm squeeze.

“I was simply giving you time to prepare your argument,” she replies, voice dry with sleep, and turns her head just enough to give Cauthrien a wry half-smile. Her blue eyes catch in the morning light and  _Maker’s breath_ , she looks like something out of a story. “What will it be today?” she presses, turning her back to Cauthrien once more. “How will you convince me to prioritize morning comforts over the entire rest of the country?”

It’s a challenge, and one Cauthrien is more than prepared for. She reaches over and brushes Anora’s long hair aside and shifts closer, letting her breath ghost along her neck. “I’ve put together a very thorough report,” she says, voice barely above a whisper that leaves goosebumps along Anora’s neck. She tugs her hand free, draws it back to rest on Anora’s thigh just beneath the hem of her night dress. “May I demonstrate?”

“Hmm.” She’s too prideful to admit defeat so early, Cauthrien knows, but when Anora speaks again the words are breathy and spoken just a bit too quickly and she suspects she’s won.” _How_ thorough?”

She feels a grin on her own lips, pulls her hand up to Anora’s waist with just enough pressure from her nails to draw out a shiver. “Thorough enough to be worthy of my queen.”

The atmosphere shifts, then, and Anora frowns as she twists to lay on her back, looking up at Cauthrien with that clear blue gaze she loves so much; she’s never been fond of titles in their private life -- in public it’s just a matter of propriety, after all -- but Cauthrien doesn’t share those reservations. 

She begins to prepare a second argument. Cauthrien doesn’t think she’ll ever convince Anora, but perhaps one day she can at least successfully show her why she feels the way she does. 

“You are, you know.” 

Where Anora’s words are sharp and clever and biting, Cauthrien’s are straightforward and blunt and simple; they both have a way of getting right down to the heart of the matter, and even if Anora’s speech is hardly  _flowery_ , it’s not the plainspoken way of Cauthrien.

So she continues in the way she knows best, pushing herself up to lean over Anora and pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. When she breaks for a breath, she doesn’t move away and instead lets her forehead rest against Anora’s, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping to somehow convey every ounce of her sincerity. “My queen.” Another kiss, and this time when Cauthrien speaks she doesn’t draw back but whispers the words against Anora’s lips. “My love. I have a duty to you, and I would not give it up for the world.”

Anora takes Cauthrien’s face in both of her hands, brow furrowing as her eyes search her expression. She looks thoughtful, and if not for the sorrow beginning to form Cauthrien would tease Anora for the pout on her lips. “You would tell me if your duty was the only thing keeping you at my side?”

“Should that day ever come, I would tell you. But for now, there’s far more keeping me at your side.” She wants to kiss her -- wants to do much more, really, even though their conversation is beginning to dampen the mood -- but Anora clearly has plans of her own for the morning, regardless of Cauthrien’s well-prepared argument against getting out of bed; she pulls her down again, kissing her with renewed anticipation. 

“ _Far_  more?” she asks when she finally breaks the kiss, bright-eyed and breathless. “Perhaps, then, you could recount some of those reasons.”

“Gladly.”


End file.
